


for both are infinite

by anonh8



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentioned Losers Club (IT), Mutual Pining, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Pining, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, idk - Freeform, pls love me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22845664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonh8/pseuds/anonh8
Summary: Confused, he picked it up and looked around the outside for any print. It wasn’t his, as he never kept trash or spare pieces of paper in his locker, but he had no idea who’s it might’ve been. He unfolded it to see a small scribbled message in unfamiliar handwriting.Stop being so cuteIt was messy, scribbled quickly, but it made Eddie’s heart skip a beat. Someone left him this note. In his locker. For him.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 13
Kudos: 253





	for both are infinite

**Author's Note:**

> a very late valentines gift from me to you
> 
> i wrote this instead of working on my full fanfic so pls enjoy
> 
> (it’s unedited so pls excuse any stupid mistakes i’m smarter than i look :0)

The first time it happened, Eddie thought it was a mistake.

It had already been a long morning, as he had accidentally slept in and missed the bus. He had to bike to school instead, with the balding canopy that the trees provided proving to be little protection from the icy rain.

Eddie’s hair was still rain-soaked and disheveled when he made it to his locker, fumbling with the lock for an embarrassingly long time before it popped open aggressively. It almost hit his head, and Eddie was about to retaliate with a string of murmured and passive-aggressive curses before a folded piece of paper caught his eye.

Confused, he picked it up and looked around the outside for any print. It wasn’t his, as he never kept trash or spare pieces of paper in his locker, but he had no idea who’s it might’ve been. He unfolded it to see a small scribbled message in unfamiliar handwriting.

_Stop being so cute_

It was messy, scribbled quickly, but it made Eddie’s heart skip a beat. Someone left him this note. In his locker. For him.

Eddie felt his face heat up, and he stared at the note, reading it over and over for what felt like way too long. He was so encapsulated by his thoughts and the note combined that he didn’t notice Richie come up and lean against the locker beside him until he rapped his knuckles on the metal to make a sharp clanging sound.

“Earth to spaghetti,” Richie joked, amused when Eddie flinched, “Whatcha’ reading there?” 

“God—fuck, Richie, don’t sneak up on me like that,” he said through a scowl, “Seriously, one day I’m gonna get a heart attack and die and it’ll be your fault.” 

But Richie had already stopped listening, as he tried to peer over to see the note in Eddie’s hand. Eddie folded it back up quickly and slammed his locker, not suspiciously at all. He coughed, as if it would cover up the fact that he was hiding something.

“Woah,” Richie said, “didn’t realize it was top secret, Eds,” he chuckled, obviously confused by Eddie being so weird. Eddie looked up, trying to mentally force his blush away to look less suspicious.

“Uh, it was nothing,” Eddie stuttered, “It was just homework I forgot to do. My math teacher’s gonna kill me.” It was a lame excuse, but Eddie was never good at lying on the spot.

“Right,” Richie said skeptically, giving Eddie a once over before apparently concluding it wasn’t worth pushing it. Richie’s eyes were kind of boring into Eddie, as if he was trying to find out more from his expression. 

It was awkwardly silent, a silence the two of them never seemed to carry, as Eddie desperately scrambled through his thoughts for something to say. Nonchalant but accusatory. Unfortunately, he was drawing nothing but blanks.

Luckily, Richie could tell that Eddie wasn’t going to elaborate on the note, and didn’t push any further questions.

“Wanna head to class? I’m on the other side of the building, and senorita always gets dificil when she’s mad,” he said, perfectly changing the subject with a horrible hispanic accent.

Eddie just rolled his eyes as they walked down the hallway together, bumping shoulders occasionally. He couldn’t keep his mind off the note, though, no matter how distracting Richie could be.

— 

He felt like his heart physically sunk when about halfway through the day, he realized the note couldn’t have been for him. It was likely for another student, a girl who had a similar locker number or a neighboring locker, and some forgetful boyfriend had mixed them up.

It was only logical. And thinking over it, it was the only thing that made sense.

It just hurt that he had gotten his hopes up in the first place.

—

When it happened the second time, he left a note for the author. Eddie felt embarrassed, like this whole ordeal could’ve just been avoided if some kid was smart enough to double check the numbers.

He felt a weird twist in a stomach as he crumpled the second note.

_You have pretty eyes_

He told himself that it was just because he felt bad for the girl who was supposed to receive these notes but never did. It would be fixed soon, anyway, so he didn’t really have to mull over it. He could just stick on his apology and correction and be done. So he did.

 _Sorry, you have the wrong locker_  
_This is Eddie Kaspbrak  
_sorry for any inconvenience__

____

____

—

“Damn, Kaspbrak, what’s got you down in the dumps?” Richie had said, loudly interrupting Bill’s previous conversation as he stole a grape from Eddie’s cheap lunch tray.

“Nothing, asshole,” Eddie said as he swiped Richie’s hand away, rewarded by a childish giggle, “Just you stealing my food and starving me.” Richie gasped in surprise.

“Oh, Eddie my dearest, you know I’d never mistreat you,” Richie said in a light and clunky southern belle accent, batting his lashes dramatically, “What’s a lady to do if she loses her gentlemen caller?”

“Hopefully learn some fucking manners,” Eddie retorted, to another loud and fake gasp from Richie.

“Eddie wins, now shut up,” Stan said, his voice flecked with his usual bored tone. Eddie laughed in triumph, as Richie attempted to elbow Stan in the ribs in retaliation. When Stan dodged, successfully avoiding Richie, he just turned around to attack Eddie instead, grabbing him in a light headlock and giving him a noogie.

“Ah—asshole—don’t be mad that I won,” Eddie said, through giggles, as he struggled to escape Richie’s grasp.

Luckily, they just returned to the conversation after that and Richie didn’t push any topics further. That was one of his best qualities, in Eddie’s eyes, because he was always pretty good at knowing when something needed to be dropped. Unless the topic was Eddie’s mom, of course.

“How was the chem test?” Richie would ask, seemingly innocently.

“Surprisingly hard,” Eddie would say, stupidly.

“Just like my dick when I see your mom,” Richie would fire back, not missing a beat. Sometimes his jokes would be scarily fast. Sometimes Eddie would wonder if Richie really wanted to fuck his mom.

—

The next day Eddie was shocked to find another small note in his locker. His heart skipped a beat, his mind quickly jumping to positive conclusions before he stopped himself, silently reminding himself that it was probably an apology note or something of the sort.

He debated even opening it, knowing that the harsh reality would probably just disappoint him, but curiosity got the best of him anyway, so he unfolded it.

_pretty sure i’ve got the right person then cutie_

Eddie his face heat up despite himself, excited at the fact that someone was actually writing notes to him. What did this mean? Should he write them back, start up a conversation? Would he actually leave highschool not a total virgin? 

He spaced out while thinking about it, staring at the note as the hallways crowded, filled with teenagers bustling to get to class on time. Which was why it took him longer than it should’ve to see Richie, slightly leaning over his shoulder. Definitely reading the note.

Eddie quickly crumpled it, shoving it in his locker and closing it with a harsh clang, but it was too late. Richie already had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What’s that, Eds?” he said, expression clearly giving away that he knew damn well what it was, or at least had a solid clue.

“Nothing,” Eddie said, “and don’t call me Eds.” He didn’t think his blush could get any deeper. Richie would probably never let him live this down. He would make fun of him for having a ‘secret lover’ or some bullshit until Eddie was wheezing on his deathbed.

“Didn’t look like nothing, Eddie Spaghetti. In fact, it looked like everything, if you know what I mean,” Richie said, winking dramatically, throwing his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie rolled his eyes, brushing him off in a weak attempt to stay nonchalant, despite being very aware of how red his face was.

“It was nothing. I’m late to class,” Eddie said dismissively, walking away and leaving Richie behind.

“We’re not done talking about this, Spagheds!” Eddie could hear Richie call from behind him. He rolled his eyes again at the stupid nickname, but he smiled despite himself. It wasn’t his fault he felt a little giddy. Someone was leaving him notes, going out of their way to compliment him, so it was worth feeling giddy for.

—

Eddie didn’t know what drew him to his second conclusion. Maybe it was the fact that the notes were too cheesy, maybe too meaningful, maybe because they were condescending in a way that wasn’t rude, just typically received by girls (and delivered by guys). Maybe it was because no matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn’t think of a single person who would give him these notes.

Unless it was a joke. It made sense. He’d had these kind of jokes played on him before. Girls came up to him all the time asking him out, then giggled at him and ran away when he just stammered in surprise.

Sure, that was mostly in elementary school, and most of the girls had long since started finding that stuff less funny and more mean, but it still wasn’t impossible. It also could’ve been Bowers, who took pleasure out of the pain of any thing with a beating heart and a nervous system.

Once he realized that, he thought he should’ve been relieved. He wouldn’t have to worry about who put the notes and if he should respond and all the drama that would ensue. But instead of relief, he just felt stupid. Eddie felt stupid that he was duped into believing the notes were genuine twice in a row. Eddie felt stupid that he had some hope that someone thought those things about him. 

Which was why when Richie ran up to him at the end of the day, smirk on his face and joke about to escape his lips, Eddie scowled and turned away to ignore him. Unfortunately, Richie didn’t take the hint.

“Eddie my love! What a pleasure it is to see you,” Richie shouted, throwing on a bad european accent that Eddie assumed was meant to be british. 

“Do you ever stop with the stupid nicknames?” Eddie asked, his tone lacking its usual sarcastic bite.

“For you, my spaghetti, I would never,” Richie said, “although i wouldn’t describe the as stupid. More along the lines of awesome, brilliant, creative, et cetera.” Richie’s smile never left his face, his teeth somehow noticeably white despite him being dubbed a trashmouth. Eddie could admit that over the years, Richie was able to grow into his body, always physically appearing less clumsy and spontaneous and gangly (although personality-wise, he stayed pretty much the same immature 12-year old he had always been). He was charming, more respectable, and even cute in most of the girls’ eyes. Eddie couldn’t be won over today though, was any chance of a good mood was ruined by 

“Whatever,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes and turning away.

“Woah, what’s got you in a tizzy?” Richie asked, “I thought you would be in a starstruck-slash-giddy-slash-head-over-heels mood, you know,” he elbowed Eddie slightly in the ribs, shooting him a sly smile, “because of your love note.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Eddie said, hopefully coming off as dismissive as he wanted to be. With Richie, though, it was never a given to how seriously he would take it. Instead, he hopped on his bike, starting to pedal away to hopefully steer the conversation in another direction.

Richie got on his own bike, pedaling after him, his black curls blowing more dramatically in the slight autumn wind. It was a nice day, the kind where it was perfect to just think, allowing any words to drift away with the swaying of the leaves that made their own argument of a content and busy silence.

It was a nice day, which was why it was so annoying that it was ruined by the stupid notes.

“Why don’t you want to talk about it?” Richie asked, after a beat of silence between the two, “Did something happen? Did you not like them? Did- did you find out who it was?” His voice caught, cracking in a high-pitched tone that Eddie knew it didn’t normally do unless Richie was nervous or really tired. He didn’t know why Richie would be nervous, though. 

Eddie sighed, glancing over to Richie, who was staring back with a weird mix of emotions on his face. A certain expectancy, maybe curiosity, maybe worry. Probably just for Eddie’s well-being.

“No, well, not really any of that,” Eddie answered, “It’s just, reading the notes, the phrasing and whatever, it just doesn’t seem real.” Eddie felt stupid and kind of pathetic for admitting it, but it was the truth.

“What do you mean?” Richie asked cautiously, studying Eddie, his words coming out slowly and quietly. Almost shy, or something. Eddie couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I mean that I think it’s a prank,” Eddie said, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Richie would probably make fun of him, because of course the only affection Eddie could receive would be a joke. Unless he counted his mom’s smothering, which honestly, felt so intense that it couldn’t really be considered affection. 

“Why do you think it’s a prank?” Richie asked. Eddie scowled at him, about to snap at him for the barrage of annoying questions, when Richie spoke up again. “I mean, do you really think it’s impossible that anyone likes you?” 

It took Eddie by surprise, as it was a question he genuinely had no answer to. He gaped, trying to think of a response. Richie just looked down at his handlebars, seemingly avoiding Eddie’s eyes.

“Well, no, but I don’t know,” Eddie said, “I just thought, well, I can’t think of anyone who’s actually like me like that. And the notes are just written in a way— It’s hard to explain.” He was kind of at a loss for words, not knowing how to explain his train of thought but at the same time knowing that he was right. As much as he wanted the notes to be real, he had to accept that they weren’t.

“You really don’t think anyone could like you like that?” Richie asked, shooting Eddie a curious glance that Eddie assumes was sympathy. Which was stupid, because Eddie didn’t want or need sympathy. He was fine. 

But he didn’t know how to respond to that question.

He gaped at Richie, “I mean, well, I just,” Eddie trailed off, focusing back on his bike, his front wheel wobbling as he put more pressure on his pedals. 

“Maybe someone does, though,” Richie said. Eddie looked over at him, but Richie was avoiding eye contact, his eyes pointed up towards the road ahead. Eddie stared at him, trying to analyze the emotions that seemed to pour out of Richie’s illuminated eyes. 

(Sometimes Eddie thought it was weird to fawn over people’s eyes for a second to long, but Richie’s were really stunning. They were a unique mixture of pale green and golden brown. They weren’t quite hazel, but definitely bordering that. They were definitely striking, though.)

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, after a beat that might’ve been too long, “I just, well, when thinking about it, I can’t come up with anyone who might have genuine interest in me.” He was being completely honest. It wasn’t that he didn’t like himself, it was just that he wasn’t exactly the varsity candidate.

“No, I get it,” Richie said, his face painted with an odd expression that Eddie couldn’t place. “We’re all losers, yeah? Not very many people like losers.” His voice attempted at lighthearted and joking, but his face seemed to fall in a certain way that made Eddie think there was more behind his words. He didn’t want to press it, though. 

“Yeah, but we’re losers together, right?” Eddie said, offering Richie a smile and curving his bike towards then away from him, a slight helix of amenity. 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie replied, smiling back at Eddie, his black halo of hair framing his face like a piece of artwork.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but didn’t correct Richie on the nickname. They stopped at Eddie’s house, and Eddie waved goodbye to Richie knowing he’ll probably see him in a few hours, when he tumbled through Eddie’s window after his mom had gone to sleep. 

Eddie knew for a fact that no matter how good the compliments might make him feel, he would rather have Richie Tozier than a million genuine love notes.

—

Eddie was mad. Like scream until his lungs hurt mad, like choking from holding back tears mad. Like he was currently on the school’s disgusting bathroom floor, wheezing from an asthma attack or panic attack or whatever— that kind of mad. Mad at Richie Tozier, the worst friend that the fucked up world tried to through at him.

It had all started the night before, when he had the idea to catch the culprit in the act. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he found out who it was— maybe yell at them, or just confront them, or even just walk away. All he wanted to do was just figure out who it was, really.

So they next morning, he woke up earlier, dropping some excuse about a study session to his mom, and managed to make it out the door with only a minimum amount of refusing and begging from her. He biked to school under the dim light on the rising sun, confident with his decision.

Eddie thought he wouldn’t be that mad. Upset, sure, and definitely a little annoyed at the perpetrator, but not really mad. It was a mostly harmless prank, not well thought out and pretty much, from all aspects, stupid. 

But when he walked around the corner to find none other than Richie Tozier at his locker, slipping a small, folded piece of paper into his locker, it took all he could not to shout at him right there.

It wasn’t that offensive in the first place, but coming from Richie, his best friend was a while other level. Richie was someone who he felt comfortable with, and even though he acted really stupid sometimes, he was actually incredibly smart and a good listener. Eddie had confided in him many times about his problems, which sometimes included that he felt lonely or felt like he might never find love. 

Maybe that’s why it stung more.

Richie was known to pull a prank or two, always having a laugh at someone’s expense, but it was normally pretty lighthearted. This was too far.

Eddie turned around to run, but not before making eye contact with Richie. Richie’s eyes still blazed into him, brilliantly green, despite being several yards apart. Eddie wasn’t awestruck, though.

“Wait, Eddie—,” Richie called putting behind him, but Eddie was already running away. He needed to be far from Richie right now. The last thing he needed to put up with was Richie whining, apologizing with one lame excuse after another. It was simply too far.

So that’s why he was collapsed on himself, locked in a stall with only the cold plastic divider to steady him. He tried to steady his breathing, but his throat felt closed up, like it was tightening on him. Eddie tried to focus. Inhaled. Exhaled, shakily. Inhaled. He needed to calm down. Exhaled again, less shakily.

The door creaked open loudly, and Eddie heard a scuffle as it hit the wall forcefully, ricocheting onto what sounded like Richie’s shoulder.

“Ow, fuck,” Eddie heard Richie murmur as he walked over to the stalls, knocking on them quietly. Eddie stayed silent, not wanting to encourage Richie at all. 

“C’mon, Eddie, I can see you under the stall,” Richie said, sounding exasperated. Or maybe desperate. Eddie didn’t care, though. He didn’t respond.

“Look, I can explain, I just don’t want you to be upset with me,” Richie said. He sounded tired, which threw Eddie off a bit. He was the one who got caught pulling a stupid prank, why would he be sad that Eddie reacted the way he did?

“I am upset with you,” Eddie said, hoping to sound dismissive, but his shakey voice interfering with that. He took a deep breath and was racked by another shakey exhale.

“I didn’t— I mean, I didn’t,” Richie stumbled over his words, “I didn’t know you’d be offended by the notes. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.” The apology took Eddie by surprise, as it actually seemed more genuine and mature than Richie normally was, but it still didn’t make up for what he did. 

“Of course I’m offended by them,” Eddie replied, against his own resolution to stay quiet and not respond. He was never good at the silent treatment anyway.

Richie cursed under his breath, seemingly way more upset about this than Eddie thought he would’ve been. Normally when he pranked someone, he laughed it off before someone (mostly Stan) forced him to apologize.

“I’m— Fuck, Eddie, I didn’t mean for you to find out. I just wanted to give you the notes,” Richie trailed off, leaning his weight on the other side of the stall door with a creak. “Can you, just, like, unlock the door? I want to talk to you face to face.”

Eddie stayed silent for a second, thinking and rethinking over the words Richie just said. Was he missing something? Because this did not sound like an apology for a prank. Were they talking about the same thing?

Slowly, he got up, walking towards the stall door and unlocking it. Richie pushes it open, standing there awkwardly, not making eye contact.

“Look, dude, the notes meant nothing if you want them to. They were completely platonic, whatever. We can even pretend they never happened. It was like, what, three notes? Poof. Gone. Whatever,” Richie said, quickly, avoiding Eddie’s gaze. Eddie looked at him weirdly. He’d never really seen Richie nervous, or almost bashful.

The words took a second to set in.

“Wait, what?” Eddie asked, shocked. The notes were genuine? This had to be a giant prank.

But when Eddie thought back, when he thought about how Richie’s eyes would always linger for a second when Eddie laughed, or smiled, or even said soemthing. How they would stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds for no apparent reason, before simultaneously snapping out of it and returning to a conversation, completely normally. Eddie thought about how much he stared at Richie’s hair, which was turning into soft curls, and how he thought about how soft it was when Richie laid his head in Eddie’s lap. He thought it was just light jealousy. 

But it made sense. They made sense.

“The notes were real?” Eddie asked, trying to confirm that he wasn’t going insane. Richie just shifted his weight, clearing his throat.

He looked up at Eddie, their eyes meeting, and Eddie was temporarily stunned, again, How had he not noticed his admiration before? 

Richie was about to open his mouth in response, but Eddie had a better idea. He cupped Richie’s jaw with one hand, wrapping his other lightly around his neck, and leaned in. 

Their lips met, and Eddie wasn’t a poet, or a romantic, or an artist. But the feeling of Richie’s lips on his felt perfect, and right, and Eddie felt like he could write a thousand love notes about how wonderful it was.

And Richie tensed for a second in surprise, but then quickly kissed back, wrapped an arm around Eddie’s waist and tipping his chin up to get a better angle.

It wasn’t chaste, but it wasn’t sloppy, and Richie’s lips were surprisingly soft for a boy who hasn’t heard of moisturizer or chapstick. They occasionally pulled back for air, but it didn’t help at all because every time Eddie opened his eyes and saw Richie’s green ones staring back at him, he felt breathless all over again.

Eventually, they pulled back, Richie’s eyes flicking all over Eddie’s face, seemingly taking in every aspect. A soft smile formed on his face. Eddie couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yeah. the notes were real,” Richie said softly, almost a whisper, his face inches from Eddie’s. Eddie could probably drop dead right there from how pretty Richie was, his light freckles and soft lips and striking eyes.

“So should I expect more?” Eddie said, giggling, even though he never giggled. No one could blame him, though, because he just felt giddy from the exhilaration of the recent events.

“Eddie Spaghetti, I’ll write an entire novel of love notes for you. I’ll be the next Shakespeare. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, uh, my love as deep, so on and so forth,” Richie said, breaking out a ridiculous accent that Eddie could only assume was supposed to be Old English.

“Shut up,” Eddie said, laughing, “and my name isn’t Eddie Spaghetti, nerd.”

Richie just smiled, and Eddie felt overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him again, so he did. He loved how he could, how this was a thing he could just do. It was a wonderful feeling.

Between the notes, Richie’s stupid pretty eyes, and his ridiculous and nerdy jokes, Eddie knew that Richie was wrong. Eddie wasn’t the one who needed to stop being so cute. There was only one person guilty of that crime. 

It was definitely Richie.

It was always Richie.

**Author's Note:**

> pls let me know if u have any feedback!! :)) kudos and comments mean the world to me <3


End file.
